Garden Of Words
by Jopeth23
Summary: Helga: "A faint clap of thunder, Clouded skies, Perhaps rain will come. If so, will you stay here with me?" Arnold: "A faint clap of thunder, Even if rain comes or not, I will stay here, Together with you." Based on "Garden Of Words" by Makoto Shinkai, a bittersweet love story... AU HxA


**Disclaimer: I don't own "Hey Arnold!".**

Author's Note: Text in normal typeface = Arnold's POV

_Text in italic typeface = Helga's POV_

**Chapter 1**

Until two months ago, from the time I entered high school, I knew nothing. I didn't know the feeling of having the hem of your uniform damp, soaked by someone else's umbrella. Or the smell mothballs clinging on someone else's suit. Or a warm body pressing against my back. And that cool breeze coming from an AC unit blowing on my face. The first week of September brought rain. Quite unusual for this autumn month, but I guess the climate is getting weirder each year. But I have always liked the rain. When I was young, the heavens seemed to be nearer to the earth. Now, on sunny days, heaven is so distant, and only on rainy days that it goes near to the earth, bathing it with its rainy kisses and embracing it with her misty arms, as if a young maiden meeting her lover for the first time after years of separation.

Today, I was supposed to go to school. But it's raining. The heavens are now close to the earth. An ominous day. I don't feel that this occassion should be spent with me cooped in a classroom where hour by hour, I feel my soul die one second at a time. I should be where I could be free. Where I can be with myself, undisturbed, unmolested, indulge in my own little world. Good thing I brought my sketchbook with me. I could go and work on my designs.

I didn't switch trains like what I'm supposed to do. Instead, I headed to the exit, and went straight to the Hillwood Park. I know just the place where I can spend the rest of this rainy day. In peace. With myself. Alone. With my sketchbook and my designs.

In the Japanese garden.

I took a short walk along the cobblestone path, and soon there I was. A lone gazebo with Japanese-style pagoda roof, overlooking a koi pond, surrounded by carefully manicured bonsai trees, towered by lone cherryblossom tree. This place couldn't be anymore perfect.

Wait. Someone's in there first. A blonde lady in her mid-twenties, who was drinking from her can of drinks, contented, staring at the koi pond, as if lost in her thoughts. It doesn't matter. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. After all, I would be just sitting in the corner, working on my designs on my sketchbook. As long as she doesn't disturb me, we'll be just fine.

Little do I know that this rainy day would be entirely different from others.

This would be the day I would first meet _her._

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_Just another day. Just another rainy day. I hoped last night just before I fell asleep that it would be a sunny day when I woke up. The sun would be there, marking a beginning of a new day for me. But no. Instead, I got ugly gray rain clouds. The skies weep, reminding me that no, I can't simply start over again that easy. No, I can't stand up and walk on my feet once more..._

_As usual, I put on my suit, determined to show at work that day. But as always, at the Hillwood Park subway station, I would end up heading to the exit instead of heading to the adjacent platform to switch trains which would bring me to my workplace. I just couldn't bring myself to go to work after what happened. Many months may have passed since that...incident...but still, I still can't. I am not yet ready. I am yet to stand on my two feet...I do not have the strength to walk again..._

_As part of my "skipping-work" ritual, I bought few cans of my favorite brand of beer, and some black chocolate bars at a nearby convenience store. These will be my companions for the rest of this rainy morning. _

_The Japanese garden in Hillwood park. That gazebo in front of the koi pond. That had been my favorite haunt every morning I decide to skip work. There's something in this place that soothes me, where I find solace amid the hustle and bustle of this unfeeling city. In this piece of heaven on earth, everything seemed so far away: the cesspit I call work, the nasty whispers spreading like wildfire behind my back, the treacherous smiles of my co-workers...none of them seem to exist in this small corner of the Hillwood Park._

_The rain seemed to have no intentions of stopping soon. I never liked the rain. It dampens the spirit, reminding you that the sky isn't always sunny and happy, but weeps sometimes, reminding you of sadness and longing._

_Dammit, I'm rambling again. I'll blame it on the booze. I'm down to my last two cans of my favorite beer. How long have I been here? Two hours? I've never been an alcoholic. But lately, my sense of taste has numbed. I could not taste anything other than beer and chocolate. An unlikely couple keeping me company this morning._

_The rain intensifies. The sky seemed nearer to the earth than before. I wonder if at these times, angels descend from their cloudy realm to the earth, at the point these two worlds normally so distant from each other are at their closest. Do they ever also feel the tedium of their duties? Do they also skip work to go down to earth, and drink beer while staring blankly on the koi pond, letting their thought fly off elsewhere? I hope I can have an angelic drinking companion in this rainy day._

_Finally, a visitor._

_I could make out a hazy figure from a distance, walking down the pebble path, heading to the gazebo where I am currently in. Some blond high school boy, probably skipping classes. That uniform! It seemed so familiar..._

_So much for expecting angels to come drinking with me._

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A blonde lady in her mid-twenties. Judging by the way she dresses, I say she works in some office in the business district. Probably as a secretary, clerk, or in some corporate position or something. Well-pressed blazer, dark brown slacks, and a pair of Diana flat shoes. Yes, definitely an office woman.

Beer early in the morning? Not to mention, pairing it with bites from a black chocolate bar between every gulp. Talk about being weird. Adults are surely weird. Is she skipping work too, just like me? Probably yes. Is she an alcoholic? Most likely. I mean, what kind of adult in her right mind would spend her morning drinking beer and eating black chocolates? But I'm not gonna judge. Maybe she has her reason.

I'm sure I have seen her somewere. She looks so awfully familiar. Have I met her before? Do I know her?

Doesn't matter. As long as she doesn't disturb my peace, and let me sketch my designs in peace, everything would be fine. I came here for solace. The serenity of this small area in Hillwood Park gives me refuge from the place of required drudgery called _school_.

But dammit, the way she glances at me, even for a split second, is killing me! I don't know, but I find it distracting! How many times I drew a wrong stroke, a line out of place on my current design because of her glances? She would give me a split-second glance, her sapphire eyes giving me a quick scan, before turning back her gaze on the koi pond, where she would be go back to her drunken trance, only to shoot that distracting gaze once more before going back to the pond. Is she checking me out?

I have never been good with girls. Especially those who were older than me. Ever since Lila, I have never been casually interacting with women, with exemption of Phoebe, my best friend's Gerald's girlfriend. I'm just awkward around them.

Dammit, I realized I was staring on a blank page of my sketchbook for five seconds now.

Something inside me wants to scream at her for distracting me.

Dammit, lady, can't you just mind your beer and chocolate while I just sit here quietly working on my designs? Can't you just keep your eyes on the koi pond, be mesmerized by the random pattern the rain forms on the water?!

Lovely as she may be, I just want her to leave me be...

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_Messy blond hair. A head a bit disproportional for his body. Emerald eyes. Prim and proper high school uniform. I reckon from a private school? He just sits on the bench across me, drawing something on the sketchbook of his. Is he an artist? An aspiring manga writer? Or a comicbook artist? I can't see what he's drawing from where I sat._

_He seemed to be consumed on whatever he's working on, unmindful of the everything around him. The rain. The musty smell of wet earth. The occasional flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder. Me, a drunken 27-year old woman skipping work to drink beer and eat chocolates early in this rainy morning. He seemed to be sheltered inside the tiny shell of his, absorbed in his own world where nothing seems to exist other than his sketchbook, and whatever he was drawing. I could feel the intensity, as if he was pouring his whole heart on to his work. _

_I don't care if he ignores me. I'm fine this way. After all, this is what I had asked for. Seclusion. To be away from the prying eyes of those rumor-mongers. Those filthy harpies. Meddlers. I just hope this rain would wash them away from the face of the earth._

_I am down to my last can of beer. I can feel the buzz rising up to my head, giving me that mellow, lightheaded sensation. The sweet spot of alcohol intoxication. Enough to numb me from all the hurt that I had been carrying around for some time now, but not that much to numb my sense of beauty. The rain. The thin mist that its drops form just above the pond as it came crashing down from the skies. I've never realized that the rain would be this beautiful. _

_And there he is, still absorbed inside his own little world, as if pouring his soul on every stroke of his pencil, then pausing with a slight grimace, his brows furrowed. Not happy with the outcome of his work, I guess? He now began furiously erasing every stroke he made minutes ago, strokes he lovingly poured his soul on to. _

_Does he feel any regret erasing the thing that he previously had set his heart on, and start all over again from scratch? If life was that easy, I would be erasing every mistake without any regret, and starting all over again with a blank sheet. Life Eraser. That's what exactly I needed right now._

_And just like that, an eraser came came flying to my direction._

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Dammit, butterfingers. My eraser slipped from my hand and flew to her direction.

And she caught it. Nice catch. She got good reflexes, even for a drunken woman like her.

_"Here you go."_

Her hand was extended towards me, holding out my pencil eraser. I looked dumbly at her for a second before I took it.

"Th-thanks..."

I swore I have seen her somewhere. I just can't put my finger on it. I took a deep breath, and mustered all the strength I have left inside me to ask her:

"Umm... have we met before?"

_"No, I don't think so."_

"Umm, yeah. Sorry..."

And just like that, silence came between us. On the corner of my vision, I can see her throwing occasional glances at me as I try to busy myself with my sketches.

I'm hopeless. I've always been awkward around girls. Especially if someone would give me this kind of attention. She seemed fascinated with my uniform. I caught her her staring at me for a second, smiling at me a bit everytime our eyes met.

Dammit. I hate this. Not that I don't like her. But me, being given attention by a woman like her...it's killing me! I can feel the weight of her stare. It's like a python squeezing around my chest, choking the life out of me.

Please, look away, please... one more minute and I will die...

And as if someone heard my prayer, she stood and picked up her bag and umbrella. She turned at me and smiled.

_"Yeah, it just fits," _she said out of nowhere.

I threw her a confused look.

_"A faint clap of thunder,_

_Clouded skies,_

_Perhaps rain will come._

_If so, will you stay here with me?"_

And after saying that, she walked away. I watched her figure disappear into the rainy mist as she headed down the pebble path to the park exit. What was that all about? A riddle for me to solve? A random poetic moment from a drunken woman? Nah, she didn't look like she had too much of her drink.

I swore I have heard of those lines before. Perhaps from my literature class? If I haven't been skipping, I could have easily remembered where those lines were from, or what they meant.

Were those lines for me? If so, what was she trying to say?

Perhaps I would know if I'll meet her again. If it rains tomorrow, I'll be here. Perhaps I'll see her here.

I hope I'll see her again. In this park. In a rainy morning like this.


End file.
